


The Hat Incident

by fflewddur_feanorion



Series: Splash AU [3]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Swimming, Fingon is a good brother, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Sort Of, the dragon-helm of dor-lomin, weird traditions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:34:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29127288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fflewddur_feanorion/pseuds/fflewddur_feanorion
Summary: “Well…” Fingon shrugged. “It’s kind of a long story?”“I have time,” Maedhros pointed out. “Besides, you’ve got me hooked now. A stuffed dragon named Barold with a mysterious past? That’s way more interesting than work."
Relationships: Aredhel & Fingon | Findekáno, Fingon | Findekáno & Maedhros | Maitimo
Series: Splash AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2117187
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15





	The Hat Incident

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place several years before Splash. Fingon is 15, Turgon is 13 and Aredhel is 11.  
> Fluff, chlorine, and dragons.

“Fingon?”

“Yeah?” Fingon looked up from his bag, which he was trying to unpack. (The key word being “trying”. He hadn’t cleaned out the bag in at least three years, and if he was being honest, he had no idea what it contained anymore. Food? Homework? A stray kitten?) 

“Why do you have a dragon on your hat?”

Fingon blinked. “What?” He had overlooked things before, but he was pretty sure he’d notice if an  _ actual dragon  _ landed on his head… “Oh! You mean Barold.” The blue stuffed dragon was glued firmly to his hat, as always. Fingon had almost forgotten about him.

Maedhros was trying not to laugh, and failing miserably. “You named a stuffed dragon  _ Barold _ ?” he giggled. “Why?”

“Well…” Fingon shrugged. “It’s kind of a long story?”

“I have time,” Maedhros pointed out. “Besides, you’ve got me hooked now. A stuffed dragon named Barold with a mysterious past? That’s  _ way  _ more interesting than work.”

Fingon grinned. “Well, if you insist. It started about five years ago, when I was a sophomore...”

**Five Years Earlier**

Fingon was having a great meet!

He'd cheered for his siblings, dropped time in all his races,  _ and  _ successfully navigated the Doriath pool without getting lost! (Fingon always got lost at Doriath. Seriously, it was like the place had been designed to confuse him.)

Fingon glanced over at Aredhel, who had wrapped a towel around her shoulders like a cape. "Turgon and Caranthir just won their relay! Isn't this great?"

"Yeah. Okay," Aredhel mumbled.

Fingon frowned. "Ari? What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Yeah, you're not fooling anyone," said Fingon. "What is it? I promise I won't go off on you or anything."

"It's stupid."

Fingon raised his eyebrows. "Kiddo, I guarantee that  _ whatever  _ it is, I've done something stupider. Remember… remember the thing with the skylight?"

Aredhel glared at her shoes. "Fine. You know Mablung, from Doriath? He was trash-talking our team… or  _ trying  _ to." She snorted. "Only he couldn't think of anything really bad to say, so he started teasing me an' Galadriel about our outfits. Said that his team was better because they had fancy jackets an' everything."

Fingon took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and definitely did not contemplate throwing Mablung off the high dive. "Righto," he said. "Ari, you're a great swimmer-- so  _ don't _ let that asshole ruin the meet. Got that?"

Aredhel nodded. She still looked a little shaky, but at least she was smiling. (Mission accomplished!) "I'd better get ready for the 200, then," she said. "Thanks, Finno."

Fingon hopped off the bleachers and ran to the other side of the pool, incurring the wrath of at least four officials. "DAD! Can we stop at Walmart on the way home? I have a really good idea."

Fingolfin grimaced. The last time Fingon had had a "really good idea," he'd gotten stuck on the roof.

"Not a  _ dangerous _ idea," Fingon clarified. "More like an art project."

Fingolfin let out a sigh of relief. "Oh. Well, in that case, go ahead."

It was perfect, Fingon thought, beaming proudly at the hat. Absolutely perfect.

Well, the stuffed dragon was a little lopsided. And it was more green than blue, really. And he'd burned his fingers rather badly while trying to work the hot glue gun. But other than that…

"Here you go," Fingon said, and set the hat on Aredhel's head. "I'll bet that Doriath jerk doesn't have a team _hat._ _And_ it's one of a kind, because there's no way in hell I'm going near that hot glue gun again--"

Aredhel tackled him in a hug. "I love it!"

Fingon grinned. Yes, the hat was definitely perfect.

Aredhel wore the dragon hat to every meet. When she wasn't there, Fingon and Turgon took turns wearing it. Eventually, no one on the team thought twice about Barold. (They'd meant to name him Bob or Harold, and settled on a compromise.) 

Of course, Barold attracted his share of weird looks from strangers-- especially strangers from Doriath-- but Fingon didn't mind. There were worse things.

"Wow," said Maedhros, who had been listening intently the whole time. "That's  _ awesome _ ."

Fingon blushed. "Well. Now you know Barold's mysterious past, I guess."

"You built a dragon hat just to cheer up your sister," Maedhros pointed out. "Not a lot of people would do that."

Fingon looked at the clock. It was nine-thirty. "We haven't actually done anything related to swimming yet," he pointed out. 

"Oh. Right." Maedhros sat up straighter. "We should probably do that."

"We could," Fingon agreed. " _ Or  _ we could just sit here, and tell weird stories, and  _ pretend  _ we were actually being productive."

"I like that plan," said Maedhros. "Ooh. Do you know Mithrim, the cafe on 20th Street? Well, my brothers and I are banned for life. We kind of deserve it, too…"


End file.
